What Would You Do?
by Black-Angel-001
Summary: Eric meets a young woman he knew from school and learns that the once bright future she had is gone. But with a little help and a lot of self-want, can she get it back?


**What Would You Do?**

**Black-Angel-001: trying to work out the next chapter for an emergency and supernatural fic but while randomly searching youtube for songs i heard from way back when i came across this song, same title as this fic, by city high and was inspired. so this fic is loosely based on that song, with a few stuff from my life. enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own CSI: Miami, the song this fic is based off of, nor the charecters...except the hooker. I mean, I don't 'own' her like a pimp or anything, but like I created her...still kinda sounds like a pimp...**

**What Would You Do?**

_Boys and girls wanna hear a true story?_

The Florida summer heat was humid and sticky, with clear skies and an occassional cool breeze from the Gulf of Mexico that managed to make it to the city. It was the kind of weather that was perfect for walking the beach and finding romance. Most people stayed inside their air conditioned homes with their loved ones or their tvs, ignoring the night, the weather and everything they held in favor of their own little world. Nobody cared what anyone else did if it didn't directly affect them somehow. In Miami, it was the way of the world.

That night was no exception. Parties went on unnoticed as long as the music was kept reasonable, the obvious strippers and hookers weren't given a second thought as long as they kept to their intended clients. At one particular party at a house on the beach, Eric Delko was helping to celebrate a friend's upcoming wedding. The bachelor party had all the usual things, liqour, beer, strippers and lots of joking and old stories. It wasn't something Eric usually did on a Saturday, but it was a light and happy atmosphere and he enjoyed the time with his friends.

He stepped out onto the balcony into the fresh night air to get away from the cigarette smoke for a minute, and to clear his head. To his surprise, one of the strippers was out there too, smoking slowly and lazily on a cigarette and staring out at the moonlight ocean. The sounds of the party were muffled by the walls and the sounds of the ocean crashing against the sand. It was a calming and quiet moment and Eric was loath to break it for a minute. The stripper was apparently in the same mood as she continued to lean against the rail and drag on the nicotine.

"Delko, right," the stripper said quietly in the silence.

"Exscuse me?" Eric turned to face her; while he studied her profile in the moonlight, she continued to stare at the water.

She took a drag, held it, then blew it out. "Delko. Eric Delko. You're him, aren't you?" She turned to look at him.

His eyebrows knit together. "Yeah. I'm sorry, how do you..?" He let the question hang while he tried to figure out why she looked familiar to him.

The woman chuckled lightly and without humor. "I didn't think I'd changed that much, but then again," her own sentance trailed off and she shook herself, like she was trying to get away from memories. "I see you on tv sometimes. You've come along way from being a goofy geek with big ears haven't you?" The twinkle in her green eyes finally gave him the clue to her identity.

"Jasmine Crabtree! I haven't seen you since freshman year in high school," he smiled at her, truely pleased to see her again. She smiled back at him and for a moment she looked her age as the years melted off her face. "What are you doing here?"

At that her smile faded and the cynical and hardweathered too old young woman was back, grinning sardonically at him. "Selling Girl Scout cookies."

Eric frowned. "That's not what I meant. I know you're here for," he gestured to her outfit and then at the double doors leading back to the party vaugly with a hand. "I meant, why are you doing it? Last I heard, you were doing alright for yourself going to college."

Jasmine looked away, took one final hit on the cigarette, then stubbed it out on the white rail, leaving black/gray ash and marks. She shrugged like it was nothing and said, "You know, same old story. Got with the wrong guy, ended up pregnant and alone, couldn't do school and take care of a baby and kept getting laid off."

"So you started stripping? Don't you have someone to help you? What about the kid's dad?"

Jasmine snorted and brushed delicatly at the ash with a painted nail. "That dead beat is in and out of jail every month, doesn't bother to send any money. Spends it all on drugs, booz and women. And no, I didn't have anyone to help me. What else could I do?"

With that, she went back to the party, smiling and laughing and working her trade. Eric didn't stick around much longer after that, but he did leave Jasmine some cash and his card.

He was still thinking about his run in with his old classmate when he went into work Tuesday after racking his brain all weekend trying to figure out how some lives so full of promise turned out wrong. His thoughts didn't affect his work, or his interactions with his co workers, but he wasn't surprised when Horatio cornered him at lunch, sunglasses in hand.

"Eric, is there something wrong?"

"Nah, just ran into someone I knew from high school this past weekend. Hadn't seen her in a long time, was kind of surprised to see her there."

They walked side by side for a bit down the sidewalk in front of the CSI building. The sun was beating down on everything unprotected by shade and made heat rise from the pavement. But the men were used to working in conditions that were sometimes worse and paid it no mind. Eric worked out what he could say to his friend-his brother, honestly-and Horatio was waiting for Eric, knowing that when he was ready he'd talk.

"I was at this bachelor party Saturday, and one of the strippers there was the girl I knew from school, Jasmine." Eric paused and smiled as he thought back. "She was pretty strong willed, always worked hard and knew what she wanted. She came from a pretty rich family, but she didn't hold it over anyone and didn't step on anyone to get ahead. I figured she'd do something great with her life, maybe go into politics. I thought she'd make a great govenor or senator or something, you know?"

Horatio nodded. "Yeah."

"When I realized that the stripper was Jasmine, I couldn't really believe it. She had everything in the world at her fingertips, and ended up with a kid, no work, and could only make money doing that. She said she didn't have anyone else." Eric stopped and Horatio did too, waiting. "She said, 'What else could I do?', like she didn't have a choice in the matter. And I've been trying to figure out how I can help her, even just a little bit."

Horatio looked at the ground for a moment, looked back and saw how far they'd come, and turned to start walking back. "Eric, you know better than anyone that sometimes things don't work out in good ways or end well." After a pause to let the pain of thinking of his wife fade, Horatio continued. "You also know, that there are situations that only the person involved can do something about. I think your friend Jasmine took the easy way and stopped trying for more, didn't fight for more. She's got to pull herself out, get back on her feet. You can point her in the better direction, but she's the one who's got to take it."

Eric looked at the vehicles in the parking lot, the trees and bushes, the people coming and going. He knew that. He knew that a person had to pull themselves up by the bootstraps and go on, even if it was hard.

"When she decides to do better for herself, and more importantly her child, she'll stop making exscuses and do what needs to be done. But, maybe it would help if she had someone to give her encouragement."

And he knew what the power of support could do to help someone get back on that rough road and make it through; he'd had more than his share of both support and encouragment at multiple times when life through curve balls and maybe a foul. Eric looked at the doors to the building in time to see a pretty blonde in black pants and quarter sleeved top come through. She saw them, waved and smiled brightly, as she always seemed to be doing. There was a good example of a woman who made it through a bad life and came out alright. Calleigh Duquesne was a bright and chipper person, and no matter how much teasing her fellow team members gave her about it, she was all a better person for it. Her life had been hard, with both parents drunk, one angry and sometimes mean and the other slowly slipping from reality. Calleigh could have easily ended up in a situation like Jasmine's, but she hadn't because she'd fought hard. And she'd made it.

Eric smiled widely at her, a smile that he usually only wore for her. Calleigh had made it, Eric had made it, and many many others had made it as well. Why not Jasmine? Why not if she really wanted it? Maybe, just maybe, this time Eric could be the support. He'd had great examples to learn from.

_For me this is what I call life._

**Black-Angel-001: i may come back later and change the ending...kinda just dropped. anywho, there it is. plotless, more of a moral thinking type of thing. note for those who are following afore mentioned supernatural and emergency fics: next chapters may be posted tomorrow or the next day, stay tuned! reviews are love and like fresh baked chocolate chip cookies! you can't have just one.**


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